


Dirty

by Ennead



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Anal Sex, Bathroom Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Season/Series 02, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-27
Updated: 2009-08-27
Packaged: 2017-11-24 09:09:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/632748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ennead/pseuds/Ennead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nathan and Charles decide the bathroom can be used for more than getting clean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dirty

**Author's Note:**

> This was written after Season 2 ended and before Season 3 aired. It is intended to be set some time before the events of the Season 2 finale, for any difference that that may make. 
> 
> I do not own Metalocalypse and make no profit from my fan work.

On general principle, one must be dirty in order to first become clean. Otherwise, what are you washing yourself for? You're not getting any cleaner, right? So by this, you can gauge when you next need to bathe by paying attention to how dirty you feel.

This was logic that Charles could embrace, and found himself feeling rather in need of a shower as he observed Nathan getting dressed that morning. He got up from the bed and wrapped his arms around the other man, hindering him in putting on his shirt. Nathan put one of his own huge hands over both of Charles' smaller ones, which were crossed on his chest. 

"What's up?"

"I think I need to take a shower," he muttered, as close to Nathan's ear as he could get without going on his tiptoes. 

Nathan was puzzled. "But you had one yesterday."

"Yeah, I know, but I just don't feel very... clean."

That time, he caught the suggestive note in Charles' voice, and dropped his shirt; he wouldn't be needing it just yet. "Oh, I see where you're coming from. Yeah, you're right. We should definitely get you cleaned up. Right now."

Grinning deviously, Charles took his hand and led him into the bathroom. Nathan shut the door and turned Charles around to face him, backing him up against the sink counter. Arms snaked around his neck, helping their mouths to meet once before Charles pulled away. 

"Hey, no fair."

"I'm just going to start the water," he teased, setting the shower to hot before returning to Nathan's embrace. The singer immediately began undoing the buttons on the white shirt he had slept in - which also happened to be the shirt he had worn for work the day before, and neglected to remove in the heat of the previous night's activities - and pushed him up against the sink again. 

"You know we've never done it on the counter before?" Nathan mused, finishing on the buttons and casting the shirt to the floor. "I can't believe it."

A vivid and entirely appealing mental image flashed through Charles' head. "You're right. We should rectify that."

His fingers went to the waist of Nathan's pants, undoing the flies and stroking the cloth-covered bulge he had revealed. It twitched beneath his touch, and Nathan pushed against him with his whole body. Laughing at the impatience, Charles reached for the bottle by the mirror, bringing it closer to them for convenience later. Nathan grinned and pulled him into a kiss, which began sweet and greeting but morphed into something greedily fierce. It made their lips ache by the time it ended, and Charles placed miniature versions of it down the centre of Nathan's broad chest. When he was finally on his knees there were already hands in his hair, anticipatory, waiting for what came next. He licked Nathan through the grey cloth of his briefs, teasing him, before freeing his cock and taking it in his mouth swiftly. As much as he loved to fuck with the man's head, it had been his idea to do this in the first place, and that meant he had been turned on for much longer than Nathan had.

"Nhh, harder..." Charles heard and obeyed, bringing it deeper into his throat and becoming more enthusiastic as a result. He loved to hear the sounds Nathan made, praising him, directing him, and did what he could to coax those noises out of his often vocally-shy lover. Nathan braced himself with one hand on the counter behind Charles, the other still clenched in his hair. 

Then Charles sped up, and the grip changed into a pushing palm. "Not... so fast, fuck, oh fuck--"

"Why?" he asked, drawing off for a moment and flexing his jaw. "Harder, but not faster?"

Nathan shook his head, gasping. "I can't take it when you go fast like that. When you act like you really... want it. I can't hold it back."

This brought a mischievous grin to the manager's face. "Oh really?"

He ducked down once more, trading depth for speed as he put renewed effort into sucking Nathan off. A thump was heard behind him as a huge fist pounded the counter, and if he could have, he would have grinned. 

"S-stop it, I... Charles... I..."

Whatever Nathan was trying to say wouldn't come out, and Charles let out a few choice moans around his length for good measure. With a pained sound, the singer grabbed him by the shoulder and forced him back towards the counter. Looking up, Charles saw his face was flushed pink, and he could barely breathe; excellent.

"Don't be mean."

The pseudo-pout was enough to bring Charles off his knees, leaning back against the counter to survey the damage he had done. The angry, pulsing cock before him was evidence enough, and he reached out to run one finger up it, eliciting a shiver. "Sorry, you know I love to play with you."

"Later you can. Right now I want you, and not just your mouth."

Charles hadn't had the opportunity to get dressed as Nathan had, and so was only hindered by his boxers. These were quickly cast off while Nathan slicked himself, eyeing the other man in a predatory manner. Large hands gripped his hips, turning him so he was bent over the counter; Charles sought a place to put his hands, shivering when he felt one thick, wet finger probing his entrance. Nathan was being gentle now, but it wouldn't remain that way. He'd been too much of a tease before, and would reap his reward soon enough, he knew. 

A strangled groan escaped him as Nathan pushed inside, slow but steady, not pausing until he was buried fully inside the other man. Charles' legs spread of their own accord, his spine curving. The first moment of penetration was always thrilling to him; it was a deeply satisfying second of complete relief. His fingers curled in on his palms, having nothing to grip on the smooth porcelain. The only disadvantage of the position was that he couldn't dig his nails into Nathan's broad shoulders, or scrape them down his back; instead he was left to sprawl across the counter, panting into the sink as the thrusts from behind grew more rhythmic and even. His cock was squeezed between the large, rough palm and his stomach, the counter digging into his legs.

The force of Nathan's pushing had him up against the mirror by that time, much closer to it with his face than he had been when they started. The glass was fogged from the heat of the shower, displaying only a fuzzy shadow of the massive singer standing behind him. Still, the image was thrilling, and he wiped the glass with his forearm to see more, bracing himself against the mirror. 

What a sight. 

Nathan's head was tipped back just a little, his expression torn between fierce desire and shockingly gentle bliss. His eyes were closed but his teeth were clenched, bared not quite in a snarl. Sure, Charles saw him all the time when they were face to face, but this was somehow very different. He couldn't look away from the reflection in front of him, pushing back hard with his hips to elicit a change in the singer's face. 

The desired effect was achieved; Nathan's eyes snapped open, and he bent slightly, driving into him with renewed force. Charles groaned, his voice breaking, forearms sliding against the cold, slippery mirror. The space he had cleared to let him see the other's face was clouded again by the panted breaths that were forced out of him. Nathan's hand tightened, urging him on.

"Ahh, god... Harder..." the more graphic exclamations that rose in his mind were dashed by his inability to form sentences, needing only whatever Nathan was willing to give him. If he could go harder, he wanted harder; faster, he wanted faster. Charles could see parts of Nathan's face in the smeared and clawed marks in the mirror's fog, and reveled in what he was doing to the other man. 

His enthusiasm made Nathan speed up, tilting his hips crookedly for better access and plowing into him. One of Charles' arms slipped away from the mirror and came crashing to the counter, sending a few bottles and tubes rolling away and dropping onto the floor. He tried to lift himself again but lacked the coordination, only able to moan in warning as he felt the orgasm approaching. Nathan sped up, clearly just as close. "Oh, fuck!" 

Charles couldn't help but scream brokenly as he came against his lover's hand and the edge of the counter, arms and cheek pressed against the cold mirror and hips achingly angled upwards. A powerful shudder ripped through him, making every muscle in his body twitch. Just as he felt Nathan reach his own release, though, the wonderful thickness left him. Charles glanced up at the mirror to see Nathan, mouth open in a shout, spilling across his back. A hotness on his skin confirmed it, and made him shudder again in a far more perverse manner before he collapsed bonelessly onto the sink.

The sound of the shower drowned out their heavy breathing, the bathroom suddenly much quieter. Then all noise was drained from the scene as it vanished into nothingness, returning to the recesses of Pickles' mind as he lay sprawled on his bed, cum splattered on his stomach.

It was always his favorite fantasy.


End file.
